


Lust in the Time of Walkers

by sceal



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Crack, Glenn is a nervous wreck, Michonne is grace itself, Set in the Prison Era, Slow Build PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:11:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7472259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceal/pseuds/sceal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glenn sees Michonne nude as she bathes in the water and he is overcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lust in the Time of Walkers

 

Oh shit, she was naked. Glenn blinked. He’d never witnessed a woman undress so rapidly in his life. And that was saying something because one of his ex-girlfriends had once spilled hot coffee on her favorite Wonder Woman T-shirt.

Michonne’s shoes, socks, pants and shirt were pooled at her feet. Also, her underwear and bra -- both of them made with sturdy, black cotton. She had a lovely everything, but right now for the sake of his inner peace he was dutifully and politely admiring the back of her ankles.

Or trying his best to not let his gaze stray from that specific region.

It was a doomed quest.

She now walked away from him, her dreads lying flat against her bare shoulders. Below the curve of her spine, her ass looked incredibly firm.

Her legs were long and leanly muscled and this was all too much.  Glenn knew way too much about his friend all of a sudden.

Glenn had seen her from every angle as she stepped out of her clothes.

She must’ve had laser hair removal treatments before the whole walker incident because she just had a few small curls covering her mound. She couldn’t shave her pussy regularly, could she? Who had time for that? And what were her intentions by it? She had to know that even guys who hadn’t liked bush Pre-Apocalypse gave no fucks now about the grooming of any pussy they were miraculously gifted with.

Her abs were more defined than his and her breasts were carved with such artistry they made him want to weep.

Did she realize he was still here? Could he just say : _Michonne, I’m sure you gave an invisible signal to leave you to your privacy but I missed it, so I absolutely saw your tits._

Shapely, round, soft-looking breasts. Like his fingers could just glide over her smooth skin but they wouldn’t – he’d want to explore every inch of her in depth.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

Turn around, right. “I’m turning around now!”

He did so, spinning to face the ring of forest surrounding the pond. Only a few short moments ago, in another life where Glenn didn’t know that Michonne had a faint web of stretchmarks on her stomach and an ass that made him believe in God, they’d come upon the pond.

Daryl, Michonne and him were returning from their resupply mission. Daryl had pointed in a vague direction and indicated that a fenced off watering hole could be found yonder for them prissy city folks, but he himself wanted to return to the prison to give Carol fresh squirrels.

They’d ditched Daryl. Michonne had seen the clear water in the tiny lake, muttered something about a bath, and promptly disrobed. Fully to the skin.

He now focused on the canopy of woods behind the fence, settling his gaze on a tree, any tree. The one right in front of him had a trunk with a wide diameter and grainy, textured bark.  Branches spanned out in slightly warped directions topped by a healthy, green foliage. It looked majestic, towering above them.

An aquatic sound reached his ears, oh exactly like a naked woman frolicking in the water. There’d be drops of water glistening in the dip between her breasts. Her breasts maybe wouldn’t _bounce_ , but they’d certainly fall and rise intriguingly as she submerged herself. Her dark nipples had to be pebbled.

Why couldn’t he be a blasé, cool guy who wasn’t incredibly turned on by his friend just because she was female and hot as fuck, apparently?

He’d known she was a woman – of course he’d known, and he’d had like a brief passing thought that yeah fucking her would be great. He was an animal and had such passing thoughts about everyone who had a pulse and was between the ages of twenty-one and forty-five, except of course for Daryl’s brother Merle.

But now he’d seen Michonne naked. Instead of like abstractly wanting to fuck her once in a blue moon, he’d be able to think of nothing else whenever her name was so much as mentioned. _Thanks Michonne, way to make my life even more awkward._

 _No, no, Glenn, you’re better than this. You’re her friend_. Men and women could be friends and not make it weird.

He’d face her bravely and resume conversing with her like the mature, evolved human that he was.

Okay, he’d turn to face her in a minute when he wasn’t picturing himself fucking her against the majestic tree.

 _Talk, Glenn. Use your words._ “How’s the water?” Glenn asked the woods.

“What?” Michonne said.

Glenn cleared his throat. She couldn’t hear him because his voice was projecting away from her, duh. He pivoted and kept his gaze focused on the far away other side of the pond, where walkers could be lurking.

Even though they’d inspected every inch of the enclosure before approaching the water. A walker might’ve learned how to dig holes beneath the metal barrier or fly. Glenn winced a bit at his desperate attempt to distract himself from the naked Michonne in the pond. 

She was a blurry blob in his vision that he didn’t allow himself to see. Glenn cleared his throat again. “How’s the water?”

“Cold,” Michonne said.

“Cold?” Glenn repeated because he had no brain cells. “Cold is good. Wait, no, cold is bad – is it a good temperature for you, I mean? Do you like cold?”

“Glenn?”

“Yes?” Glenn said to the distant shore where everything was still and safe and unpopulated by sirens waiting to lure him to the deep, dark depths.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she said.

“But?” Glenn said. There had to be a but. Because here he was, uncomfortable.

He’d tried up to now to sort of pretend the bottom half of his body belonged to someone else, kind of willfully induce a dissociative disorder. It was so far from working that he felt like his hard dick would burst through the seams of his jeans like some kind of terrifying jack-in-the-box.

“You seem uncomfortable,” Michonne said. “You can go back to the prison. I’ll catch up.”

Glenn wanted to cry. His eyes started to sting a little bit. It made no sense and now was so not the time for it – she was just so beautiful and naked and thoughtful and he needed to pull himself together.

“No,” Glenn said, finally meeting Michonne’s gaze. She was in the water up to her chin, no doubt in consideration of his modesty. “I’m sorry. I’m trying not to make you feel uncomfortable because you’re really beautiful.” He covered his mouth with his hands and closed his eyes _. Shit. Fix this. Fix this now_. “I’m your friend and I don’t want to be creepy. Let’s both pretend I never said that. I won’t leave you in the woods alone – I’d never do that. But I’ll just continue to face the woods for now.”

He turned around.  Now the majestic tree was the only witness to his utter mortification and arousal. Like his embarrassment wasn’t even doing him the small favor of wilting his hard-on.  Glenn hadn’t had sex since before the apocalypse and Michonne was a fucking babe that never would’ve looked his way until her options were reduced to the miniscule group of adults residing in Cell Block C of the West Georgia Correctional Facility.

Not that Glenn had been moving a lot before, but he suddenly went so still he almost stopped breathing.  His pulse pounded loud and hard in his chest. Certain approaching splashes behind him hinted that Michonne was getting out of the water.

Glenn reached down and quickly bunched her clothes into a bundle, careful not to linger on any flimsy strips of fabric.  He held out the clothes politely, like he wasn't about to faint from the loss of blood to his head. He felt decidedly woozy.

Out of his peripheral vision, one drenched and dripping delicate arm reclaimed her clothes.

Glenn returned his empty arm to his side, balling his fists just because.

Painful rustling noises ensued. His insides felt like they were on fire. Lava, everywhere. Which made him think of volcanic eruptions, which in turn made him think of coming.

Coming inside Michonne.

Who was behind him. 

He briefly closed his eyes and garnered all the willpower that he had, determined to salvage the situation and turn his mind to other thoughts. He'd reached a semblance of calm when Michonne stepped into his field of vision completely.

Her shirt stuck damply to her skin in patches.

Glenn ignored the flush creeping up his face and determinedly met her gaze.

"Are we ready to go?" he said.

“Don't you want to take a bath?” 

Dear Lord.

“No,” Glenn said.

He did, but not as much as he wanted to be alone in his cell so that he could cry and jerk off for a few days.

“Okay,” Michonne said. “Let’s head home.”

After that, things returned to normal.

They had a typical daily routine. They went on runs to gather supplies and ate the canned beans at the cafeteria.  Glenn had to deal with a bit of teasing from Daryl though. Ever the observant woodsman, Daryl did in fact notice that whenever Michonne was present, Glenn walked around like he’d raided an old folks’ home’s supply of Viagra and downed all the little blue pills in one go.

Michonne pretended not to notice and for that small dignity Glenn was grateful.

“Glenn and I are gathering supplies today,” Michonne announced one morning.

Daryl raised a brow and smirked like he was thinking about some terribly funny hillbilly joke with a punchline about kissing cousins. “Without me?”

“Carol said she wanted to see you,” Michonne said.

Glenn followed her out, a million questions running through his head. “Is it Rick’s birthday? Are we planning him a surprise party?”

“I don’t know when his birthday is,” Michonne said.

Glenn nodded glumly.  The only other option he could think of was that Michonne was leading him to a secluded area in the forest so that no one could hear his screams when she castrated him because she was tired of his dick constantly pointing at her like she was the true north.

“I’m really sorry,” Glenn said.

“Don’t apologise,” Michonne said.

Huh.  Maybe she hadn’t noticed his endless boner?

“Your erection isn’t something you can control,” Michonne said. “The fact that you pretend it’s not there means a lot.”

“Thanks,” Glenn strangled out. “I try.”

“Look, I don’t view any of this as my fault,” Michonne said. “I took an Intro to Woman's Studies class in college, so I don’t put the onus of desire on women. But, this all started when I got naked in front of you – honestly I was so excited about taking a bath, I didn’t consider that I might be crossing a boundary.”

Glenn by now noticed that they were headed straight for – yep, there it was, the scene of the crime.  A peaceful, quiet little pond. Lily pads had never stared up at him with so much recrimination before.

“So,” Michonne said. “I wanted to make it up to you.”

Glenn froze, his brain going in the dirtiest direction possible.  Mental images of Michonne invaded his brain like an assault of pop-up porn websites. Michonne, kneeling at his feet, sucking his dick. Or with all her beautiful dark brown skin naked, waiting for him on a bed in a seductive pose. Michonne in a schoolgirl uniform, bent over the desk. Michonne joining him in the shower and wrapping her legs around his hips. Michonne on the couch with his head between her thighs.

“I know you really wanted to go in the water that time,” Michonne said. “I’ll keep watch, you go ahead.”

“Great, thanks,” Glenn said. He carefully closed all of the X-rated videos looping in his head, got out of his clothes and jumped into the freezing lake.  The water shrivelled his testicles.  It was a fitting punishment for his dirty, perverted brain.

From now on, he’d be the friend Michonne needed him to be.  She deserved better.

And after the second pond visit, Glenn wanted to say that things returned back to normal.  His testicles never got over the deep freeze, but everything else should’ve been the same. 

It wasn’t though.

Glenn wasn’t just imagining it all in his head, Michonne was different.

She treated him differently.

She kept focusing on random parts of his body and licking her lips. Her gaze intent and heated with dare he say it, lust – he’d be fully clothed and in a crowded room and there she’d be, undressing him with her eyes. She’d be admiring his dick, his ass, his chest, his biceps, the curve of his jaw, his Adam’s apple, and the list only got more bizarre. He’d caught her checking out his earlobes and he’d definitely caught her checking out his calves once.

Daryl noticed too. Instead of being amused at Glenn’s expense, like he’d been when Glenn’s unresolved sexual tension was one-sided, he was irritated all the time and kept telling him and Michonne to get their heads out of their asses and quit daydreaming like a bunch of baby racoons.

One fine day, the three of them were trekking through the woods with their supplies in their backpacks. Daryl was up a bit ahead.

Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, a hundred and would you have it, he’d caught her again. Checking out his abs, like she had superpowers that allowed her to see through his shirt. 

As far as he could tell, she liked comic books, red wine and personal hygiene products the best.  Once he’d grown confident she wanted to jump his bones, he’d begun secretly building up his hoard.  He just needed to find her a box of baking soda, dental floss and a second bottle of wine in case she didn’t like Pinot Grigio.  

Then he’d be ready to present her with his carefully tailored gift basket and prove to her that he was a worthy mate who understood her specific, individual needs and would do anything in his power to satisfy them.

Glenn stopped in his tracks. He recognized this patch of woods, it was the one that led straight to the – Wait a second. “You want to take a bath?”

This was worse than if Daryl had announced he liked to snack on human ankles.

Daryl was a grimy man who’d just led Glenn and Michonne to their private pond.  He could not be allowed to sully it. Glenn eyed the bigger man and prepared to jump him. One kick to the crotch and Daryl and his freakishly muscular biceps would be immobilised.

“I’m going back to the prison,” Daryl said menacingly.

“We are too,” Michonne said.

“No,” Daryl said. “Nu-uh. Ya’ll got to work this out – do what needs to be done.” He gave them both significant glances. He then trotted off whistling a jaunty little tune.

“Did Daryl just telepathically tell us to fuck each other?” Glenn said, too outraged to remember that he wasn’t talking about sex with Michonne until her gift basket was fully loaded.

“That hillbilly has some nerve,” Michonne said.

“Tell me about it.” Glenn gave Michonne a commiserating glance. Big mistake.

Her dark brown eyes were irresistible.

“We can never tell him,” Glenn muttered, advancing towards her.

“Never,” Michonne nodded, reaching for him and pulling off his shirt.

Glenn dropped trou and trusted her to handle her part of the equation. Which she did, so beautifully. She squeezed out of her tight brown leather pants. While her hands were busy, he captured her face with his palms on her cheeks and kissed her.

She kicked him in the shin but not very hard. It was an accident committed as she wiggled completely out of her pants. He found it within himself to forgive her when she pressed up to him, the hard line of her muscular stomach trapping his erection between their bodies.

He reached for the condoms - he’d recently started to always carry some - and sheathed his dick. Michonne pulled him back towards her and gifted his lips with the exquisite touch of hers. They somehow found themselves lying on the forest floor completely naked, Michonne’s body cushioning his.

Glenn tore his mouth away from her lips to cover every inch of her skin with kisses, from silly places like the shell of her ear to crucial locations like the dark nub of her nipple. Michonne had very little patience for his ministrations.  She clenched her fist around his cock and guided it into her pussy.

“Fuck,” Glenn gasped at the sudden tight heat that engulfed him.

And then she moved.

She lay beneath him, ruthlessly milking his cock and jutting her hips like they were in a competition and she meant to beat his ass. Glenn would gladly let her do so in any other situation, but right now his hips rammed into hers in a punishing pace. He was gripped by a ferocious compulsion to fuck her raw.

She panted into his ears and clutched at his shoulders. He’d never felt anything like the shocking heat of her embrace. If she kept this up, he’d prematurely ejaculate all up in her and ruin any possibility of this ever happening again unless he took preventive measures.

He reached for her clit and massaged her hood with gentle yet steady circles with the pads of two of his fingers. He held back his orgasm, panting at the effort. Her eyes finally rolled to the back of her head and her entire body arched in a tense bow. The moment held and stretched as she came.

Her body loosened beneath his, all soft and relaxed. She pulled him back down and kissed him, sucking his tongue into her mouth. There was little he could do to halt his orgasm after that.

He felt his release down to his toes. He caught his breath and rolled off of her, pulling her onto his chest.

“We get to do that all of the time now, right?” Glenn said.

“I insist upon it,” Michonne said.

“I prepared you a gift basket,” Glenn said.

“Did you?” Michonne said.

“I’ll give it to you when we get home,” Glenn said.

“Daryl will be so smug.” Michonne sighed.

Glenn would worry about that later.  “I won’t be ready for round two for another while, but would you mind if I went down on you while we wait?”

Michonne lifted her head on his chest and raised a brow. “By all means.”

The irritating know-it-all Daryl deserved a gift basket too. That was the last coherent thought Glenn had for a long while.

 


End file.
